Stoop Boy
by Queer-Piece
Summary: Kid hates almost everything, but especially hates watching his long-time crush being picked on, and standing by as he walked alone. He struggles with his temper, and all the fights he gets into doesn't help. When he starts to receive poems in the form of letters from a stranger, his life begins shifting in a way he didn't think possible.
1. Prologue

Well, I got this story idea when going through my old middle school stuff. I collected a lot of poetry, and pictures. People used to call my sister the 'Stoop Girl' because all she ever did was sit outside on our front steps. I guess this is a little bit from my elementary school, and middle school days combined. Trust me, the two were very different. The basic situation was pretty much the only personal thing I put in this story, besides a few of the poems. On a more depressing note, I dedicate the whole idea to my friend Skylar, who hated to be trapped. Enjoy

* * *

Kid stormed out of the house, with force that would make a bull jealous. He did this several times a week, and would throw rocks at the tall trees that lined his deserted backyard. He would get into an argument, or just get mad, and would storm off to his safe-haven. It calmed him down. He sat down on the rickety wooden steps, as he seemingly always did. He was doing some major brooding, when he took notice of a pure white object out of the corner of his eye. He definitely didn't own anything that color. He reached over and pulled the envelope out from in between the post, and the step, and checked the back of it.

_Eustass Kid_

He was surprised to see his name written neatly across the back, in cursive so lightly written the pen had let up at some points. The black in contrasted deeply with the pearl-like paper, and he briefly wondered if he should really open it. Before he knew it, his fingers were working at the flap of the envelope, uselessly attempting not to rip it. In the end, it was torn to pieces, and a frustrated Kid unfolded the paper, and began to read.

_by Jim Wayne Miller_

_He comes gusting out of the house, _  
_the screen door a thunderclap behind him._

_He moves like a black cloud_  
_over the lawn and-stops._

_A hand in his mind grabs_  
_a purple crayon of anger_  
_and messes the clean sky._

_He sits on the steps, his eye drawing_  
_a mustache on the face in the tree._

_As his weather clears, _  
_his rage dripping away,_

_wisecracks and wonderment_  
_spring up like dandelions._

'What?' He thought to himself perturbed. 'Why the hell would someone leave me a poem?' He wondered tracing each line with his finger, re-reading. 'What the hell does this have to do with me?' He continued to think as a pair of focused eyes continued to stare at him from the distance. _  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Kid woke up the next morning lying against the door. He huffed out a loud yawn, and stood up rubbing his sore neck. He groaned loudly at the pain, grabbing the door and attempting to make himself lighter, as not to make the porch steps creek. Ashe opened the door, he looked around the dark house, it's only light source being the little bit of morning sun that was shining through a hole in one of the dirty curtains over the window above the kitchen sink. He turned the doorknob before closing the door so it wouldn't click. He paced across the linoleum floor to see the time on the stove.

"Shit, 7:21..." Kid cursed quietly.

He quickly ran to his room and grabbed a shirt that looked like it was clean, and slipped it over the wife-beater he was wearing. He threw his nearly-empty backpack over his shoulder and ran back to the kitchen paying no mind to the sleeping figure on the coach. He slipped on his boots and laced them tightly,making his way out the door. He closed it softly, and made sure not to slam the screen door.

Once he was outside, it dawned on him. The poem. He stopped and patted his worn jeans, until he ended up fishing the envelope out of his back pocket, poem folded back inside. He stepped quietly down the porch steps and walked down the cracked sidewalk that led to the gate of the chain link fence that surrounded his house. He payed no mind to the gate and just pushed it open, as he didn't latch it the day before. He was much too busy rereading the poem for the billionth time. Although his name was handwritten on the back of the envelope, the poem inside looked to be printed out. Meanwhile, he slowly trekked down the sidewalk in the direction of the high school.

He went to Sabaody High, a quite average school in terms of academics, and just about everything else. Sabaody was located outside of the Grand Line, one of the most urban cities in existence. He lived in one of the emptier parts of town, on the south side. The school was located about twenty minutes away from his house (If he was really trying to get there, that is.) and was on the way to the west side of town. For a freshman, he had gotten into a lot of trouble this year. Yesterday he got a week detention because last week, Wire thought it would be a wonderful idea to pick on this sophomore girl in his study hall, and ended up getting the crap beat out of him by some vigilante foot ball player trying to make himself look good. Kid got pissed when he found out, as per usual, and punched Wire for being a complete moron. Today was only Tuesday, and he already had enough of everyone's bullshit.

As he came up on the school, Kid being lost in his thoughts didn't notice Killer coming up from the side of him.

"Kid." Killer said loudly enough for the red-head to hear him.

"What." He snapped, annoyed with Killer already.

"Wire's outta school today." Killer said calmly, puling his dark blue hoodie over his face more.

"Good riddance." Kid mumbled walking on with Killer in tow.

"What's that?" The question confused him for a moment, until he realized he still had the envelope clutched in his pale hand.

"My hopes and dreams." He said flatly as he stuffed it into a random pocket on his backpack.

"Let's go." He snapped to Killer You could see him grin from beneath his hood and mop of long blond hair.

"Let's."


End file.
